My Life

Source of Inspiration

butterfly 44

My life is but a single breath,
so fleeting, yet needed in the
moment. Why do we feel that we
must live forever, building
monuments to our name? Am I
but a pretty butterfly
sipping nectar in the garden
a short while, then gone, a
star that fades with dawn?
If all else ceases to be,
then
why
not
me?

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